Three childhood friends depart from their homeland of Kalos to the land of Kanto, the birthplace of civilization in the Pokemon world. A shell of its former self, coastal villages and cities lay long abandoned following the mass migrations to the new world. Setting foot in what remains of Pallet Town, Frogadier, Braixen, and Quilladin venture forth to seek out any long lost clues as to the secrets behind Mega evolution.

Alternative and cringe inducing title being; "Chaos in Kanto: The Megastone Mystery!" ...Wow. WOW. Goddamn, I have really outdone myself with
that one. Holy shit.


NEXT

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“You know, Quilladin,” the Frogadier sighed as a cloak and dagger were placed into his hands, “if I didn’t know any better, it’s almost like you’re trying to tell me something. Like… there’s some sort of implicit assumptions being thrown around about what I am and am not supposed to be good at.”

Humming to himself, the armored Grass type wagged his orange tipped tail to and fro. “Aww don’t be like that Frogadier! Who else could fill those shoes?” Arching his brows in surprise, the squat and rounded Pokemon looked on dumbly as a long blue tongue wrapped itself around the belt balanced between his stubby little hands. He wiggled his clawed fingers in the now vacant air. “What’s wrong with our setup now? We’re a perfect by the book trio! Braixen’s our mage, you’re our thief, and I round things out as our shining and charismatic knight, bravely leading us into and sometimes away from danger!” Growling, Quilladin flexed his non-existent muscles. “Besides, no one’s better than you are at sneaky sneaking and picking pockets!”

Ylowppping his tongue back, the belt and its pockets bounced against the blue frog’s palm, hand held up high. “Only because you keep pigeonholing me into it!” With a grump, he wrapped the worn leather around his waist.

“But you’re a Dark type! Or…” Quilladin twiddled his three clawed fingers against his flat face, his perky features and tufts of hair peeking out of a circular gap in his armor. “Well, you will be. You’re a natural!” Leaning to his side, Quilladin’s eyes and mouth went wide.

A tangled bush rustled amongst the sea oats and thicker grasses poking out of the transitioning shoreline, its thick blue limbs wrapped and gnarled around one another. Shuffling to the side in the loose soil it rose slightly, revealing red shoes that propelled it forward.

Eeeeing to himself, Quilladin waved to the strange flora. Frogadier glared back at his companion, snapping his fingers to grab his attention.
Round white eyes stared back from between the foliage, the mobile bush freezing in place. A low whimper could be heard emanating from its grassy bowels before the Tangela hustled off in fright.

“Awwww…”

“Hey! Over here!” The frog’s fingers flicked at the Grass type’s rounded nose. “I…” Hands held out to his sides, Frogadier’s limbs trembled in place. “See, this is what I’m talking about. Do you… do you even see the gaps popping up in your own logic?” Webbed fingers clutched at the drab brown hood of his cloak and yanked it down. “I’m not good at stealing because I’m a Dark type! Errr because I will be.” Frogadier stroked at his chin in mock contemplation, his digits slipping off his wet skin, “It’s because this is the only role you ever assign to me. Of course I’m going to get good at getting the drop on others and emptying their pockets if it’s all I’m asked to do!”

“Are you two going to be-”

“Yes we’re going to be a while,” Frogadier rolled his eyes side to side in their sockets.

“Just checking.” Plopping down on her rear, Braixen twirled her tail, shaking loose her wand. She untied the pouch wrapped around the frail twig, coercing dried Oran and Pecha berries into her waiting hand. The taste of salt in the air accompanied the rhythmic and gentle pounding of waves against a distant shoreline. Staring out at the ocean, the Fire type’s black furred toes dug into the sand, watching their Lapras ferry disappear over the horizon, prompting stray Magikarp to flop into the air in its wake. In between chews, white capped waves washed against Pallet’s shores and the fiery fox’s feet. Bubbles fizzed upon her twiddling toes.

“Why can’t Braixen be our thief?”

“Do I want to be a part of this argument?” Cocking her head to the side, she suspiciously eyed the frog gesturing towards her.

“Her illusions and fox fire magic make her just as capable a thief as I am. I mean think about it, baddies could be swatting at her conjurations while she robs them blind! Heck, why not you even?” Pointing towards Quilladin, the frog curled his lips down. “I’m sure…” Frogadier caught himself before elaborating further, tongue pressed against the top of his mouth. Hmm. Yellow eyes scanned up and down the Grass type’s rolly poly form. Okay, yeah, there probably was a reason why Quilladin never was tasked with being sneaky.

“Well if you’re not gonna be our thief, then who would?” Slipping his scabbard over his head, the worn strap that had rubbed a groove into the Grass type’s armored back caught against a pointed ear.

“I just explained this!” With a swat of his moist hand, the sword’s strap was freed and slipped over Quilladin’s rounded noggin. Slinging the scabbard over his own shoulders, Frogadier pointed a hand back at the beach. “Braixen can be our thief.”

“Should I be worried I keep hearing my name dropped over there?” Soft and fluffy ears positioned atop her head swiveled like satellite arrays towards her two friends. Her eyes unable to peel themselves away from the ruby red gems glittering off the Tentacool drifting on the ocean’s surface, letting the currents carry them where they pleased. Wingulls crooned overhead.

“Who would our mage be then?” Hopping up, Quilladin’s nubby limbs barely reached up to the Water type’s shoulders. They were poorly suited for the task of reclaiming his sword from the much taller Frogadier, who made no attempt to resist the armored Pokemon’s vain attempts.

“Wellllll if Braixen’s going to be expanding her horizons…”

“Why are you two making decisions for me?”

“Oh hush. I figure, maybe we should all take a crack at venturing out of our comfort zones. I can be the warrior for once,” he said shifting his shoulders, the sword’s hilt sinking through the scarf of bubbles wrapped around his neck, “and YOU can be our mage!”

“I don’t know…” Pouting, Quilladin leaned up against Frogadier, whining as he tried reaching for his blade. All he knew was how to swing and be swung at. “Should we really be changing things up so much? We are in a strange new land after all, m-maybe we should just stick to what’s tried and true!” Arms twirling in place, he let out a soft noooooo as the frog held him back with a single hand papped against his forehead.

“We’re in Kanto, Quilladin.” Braixen brushed her hands against her legs, knocking away the grains of sand clinging to her legs. “The birthplace of civilization itself! It’s not some unexplored backwater wilderness, like say Orre. No one’s lived in these parts for a while is all.” Reaching into her bushy tail, she fetched out a bundle of rolled together parchment. “Look, we even have maps and everything.” Vermillion and Celadon city were highlighted in red on the crumpled parchment, the only cities of size that remained following the mass migrations to the new world.

“What, do you not think you’d be a good mage?” Taking on a teasing tone, Frogadier couldn’t stifle his growing grin.

“N-no! I’d be a great mage, bending nature itself to my very will!” Stamping his feet against the red railroad vines crinkling against his ankles, his soft tremors aroused the curiosity of a couple Digletts. “Might need some practice first, that’s all.” The tiny Ground types poked their heads through some gaps in the red vine’s roots, the broad leaves and purple flowers bopping against the top of their heads. They meeped softly, eager to take in their fill of the newcomers.

“We all settled then?” Casting a worried glance towards Braixen, the fox merely shook her head and replied with a wry laugh to the frog’s inquiry.

“Behold!” Arms raised as high as they would go above his head, the flora at Quilladin’s feet beckoned to his call. Twirling together, the grasses and wildflowers tugged at their roots, forming into dense vines. The observing Digletts oohed and awed at such mastery of the esteemed Vine Whip spell.

As she sauntered past, Frogadier grabbed hold of Braixen’s thin and bony arm. “Hey umm… you sure you’re okay with this?”

“Can’t say I’m all too thrilled having these decisions made for me,” she sported a toothy smile, prompting a nervous laugh out of Frogadier, “but it’s fine.” Wand in hand, she twirled it between her white furred fingers before smacking his knuckles with it. “The show of confidence was appreciated by the by,” she quietly followed up, grabbing the former thief’s dagger and tucking it against her side. This time her smile was genuine, as was the sentiment behind it.

Still smarting, the Water type shook his hand furiously. “Thanks, Braixen.”

Hands held out before him now, Quilladin hrmmmed loudly. Fingers wiggling, the nearby bushes that weren’t Tangelas swayed gently. One by one, leaves plucked themselves off their branches and lazily drifted through the air. Flabbergasted, the Diglett onlookers meeped ecstaticly at such effortless wielding of the dread Razor Leaf.

“You done yet?” Braixen smirked at seeing how clearly and quickly she had been outclassed and replaced as the resident mage. “Not like we’re going to find out more about the origins of Mega Evolutions just standing around here.” Her long and flowing crimson robe swished against the back of her knees, the sand sifting underneath giving way to gravel that crunched loudly underfoot.

Quilladin trotted after the foxy mage, but not before waving goodbye to his latest adoring fans. “I still don’t understand why we came here instead of staying in Kalos.” Waddling alongside her, even Braixen had a good head and shoulders on him in height. “Isn’t that where all the latest and greatest strides have been taking place?”

“Yeah. All of which are zealously guarded,” Frogadier was quick to remind him. “It’s not like this was something that was just stumbled upon though. Think about it; the Venusaur, Blastoise, and Charizard families were amongst the very first to posit and promptly exploit Mega Evolution. You don’t think it’s a teensy bit suspicious that every one of those families have roots here, in Kanto?”

“Nearly half of all those evolutions discovered so far all coincidentally,” her white furred fingers heavily emphasized the air quotes, “belong to ancient and influential families straight out of Kanto, now that you mention it.” Braixen tapped her wand against her chin. “Gengar, Gyrados, Alakazam…” Those ancient families already lived several rungs removed from the common dredges of society. The boon to their power and stature brought about by Mega evolution had gone and set them worlds apart from the masses, distancing themselves that much further from everybody else.

“Like I said, that can’t just be generations of wealth and power talking.” Strutting besides his two childhood friends, the multihued blue frog cast a passing glance over the landscape. “There’s something to be found heeeEERE!” Webbed feet caught against a smooth slab of stone jutting out of the now solid earth.

“Careful!” Bumbling forward, Quilladin’s nubby arms wrapped around the frog’s, locking Frogadier in place and holding him upright.

“Owe you one, little guy.” Frogadier plopped a hand against the diminutive Grass type’s back, rewarding him with a thankful and gentle pat. Ushering Quilladin forward, he turned to look over his shoulder. Chin nestled against his foamy and bubbly scarf, he hrmmed aloud.

A series of bleached stone structures sat perched upon a hill overlooking the sea. Hundreds of feet away from shore, it was what little legacy that remained of this tiny coastal village.

“You’ve noticed it too?” Her wispy tail swished side to side, robe swaying with its movements. Scrunching her black furred toes, Braixen balanced herself upon a series of half-buried stones, worn smooth by erosion. “We’ve been trampling all over Pallet’s foundations.”

“Something prompted them to relocate to higher ground… but what?”

Quilladin’s claws clacked loudly against the ground as he wobbled along. “Maybe Groudon and Kyogre’s legendary brouhaha caused this?”

“Bwah… but Hoenn’s on the other side of the world!” Frogadier scratched at the back of his neck, hesitant to refer to either Legendary by name. “I mean, I know they’re both gods, but still! We’re talking about reshaping and burying entire shorelines here.”

Braixen kicked at faded red pebbles littering the still sandy ground, no doubt originating from the stray Staryu skeletons that clung tight to the ruined homes. “This place used to be underwater and now it’s not.” The fox’s gaze uneasily focused on an empty Cloyster shell jutting out of the earth, swept far beyond into Pallet’s borders. “A clash of egos between two gods seems like just as good an explanation as any.”

Frogadier led the party forward, wordlessly acknowledging his companions with a sigh. As they ventured further from the coast, looming evergreens poked up along and split through the ancient cobbled road leading north. Kakuna and Metapod carapaces were glued to their branches, the backs of the shed shells split open from where their evolutions emerged. The older, taller trees were bleached white at the base of their trunks. A fine white line melded into the bark, eye level with the taller frog and fox, marked just how high the salty sea had risen. “Let’s hope what we came here for wasn’t swept away in the tide,” the newly appointed warrior grumbled, swatting back at the bumbling Grass type riding on his heels.

Returning the gesture, Quilladin swatted back at the offending webbed fingers. Arms held out before him and head reared back, the armored little mage slapped Frogadier’s hand down. “What exactly are we looking for, anyway?”

“We’ll… let you know once we figure that out ourselves.” A high pitched buzzing interrupted Braixen’s train of thought and prompted the fox to curl her fingers tight around her wand. With a wave of her weapon, licks of fire wafted in the air above the trio, discouraging the curious Beedrill from investigating further. It circled noisily around them before vanishing amongst the trees. “Might not know what to look for,” she admitted while pointing to where the sloping route they walked melded into the horizon. A dense and impermeable wall of green could be seen in the distance. “But we do know where to look.”

“Is that Viridian Forest?” Even in Kalos legends of that lightless forest traveled along loose and oftentimes incredulous lips. Tree canopies packed so closely together, sunlight was utterly unable to permeate through to the barren floor. “W-wait you don’t mean we’re going to go rummaging around-”

“If there’s anyone in Kanto who would have known about Mega Evolution, it would have been her,” Frogadier solemnly stated. Situated at the forest’s base, resided a sprawling and formerly very well to do city. Once a proud jewel of the Kanto continent, it fell into disfavor, and disrepair, once the means behind its prosperity were revealed.

“To think, a single Pokemon controlled both the evo stone trade and Mastery gyms from behind the scenes.” Contempt, trepidation, and a little bit of admiration rang out through Braixen’s tone.

“Nidorina restricted access to stone based evolution for how many years?” Long lost to the unstoppable streams of time, Frogadier wasn’t hesitant to mouth off and call out the woman by name.

She was amongst the first to discover the transformative properties evo stones had on Pokemon. Her immediate response upon realizing their potential was to ruthlessly acquire, hoard, and dole out said stones to the highest bidder. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say her favor, or ire, could win or lose wars between battling kingdoms. She alone decided if one’s infantry were to receive or be deprived of a prompt and permanent upgrade in size and strength. The flow of stones trickled out under her supervision, the shrewd Nidorina keen to not let any one customer get too much of a lead over the other.

“And it took a good, what, century before anyone could trust the Mastery gyms again?” Brushing the side of a wet and webbed hand against his chest, his fingers tapped proudly against the teardrop shaped Coumarine badge, a proud and leafy tree engraved into its shimmering surface. Branches arched out like veins to the polished edges. It was a recognition of both his agility and fortitude.

Coumarine’s Mastery gym was a gauntlet comprised of two parts. First, challengers had to pass through an obstacle course while being constantly beset upon by Grass type magics from all sides. Oh, and they had to make it to the end unharmed. Second, was a one on one showdown with the leader of the Mastery gym. To claim his badge, Frogadier had to remain standing following three of that Gogoat’s fiercest attacks.

Stepping over Weedles and Caterpies crawling along the ground, Braixen’s lips flattened. “You have to admit, at the time, it was a clever cover. Use the Mastery gyms not only as bases of her evo stone smuggling ring, but to size up potential recruits into her operations.” She shot her froggy companion a wry smile. “Though once she was found out, it did poison the very concept of gyms. Anyone who was, or wanted to be, associated with them had their reputation ruined.”

His gait nowhere near as impressive as his friends’, Quilladin stopped before a Caterpie slowly scooching across the road. Pink antennae wiggled to and fro as it stretched its neck over the gaps between the cobbled stones. Swinging his arms back and forth, the armored mage hopped up and over the Bug type. Head tilted back, he looked up to the fiery fox. “You think she wheeled and dealed Mega stones too?”

“It’s hard to say…” Braixen answered uncertainly. “But her empire spanned from Viridian to Cerulean, Fuchsia, even Cinnabar! If anything related to Mega evolution happened on this continent way back when, she would have known about it.” One furred foot set in the front of the other, Viridian City came into focus on the horizon.

“Which is why we came here,” Frogadier chimed in. His tone turned sour as he elaborated on, “Back home, if you keep your ear to the ground, rumors are circulating that Mega evolution is somehow stone based.” Black pupils bobbed against the sides of his yellow eyes, keeping a watchful eye on the armored little chestnut bobbing beside him. “The Viridian Mastery gym was Nidorina’s home and the stone trade was her bread and butter. Like Braixen said, Nidorina is our best lead. If that place is still intact, some of her old tomes and records are bound to still be there.”

Picking up the pace, Quilladin was eager not to be left behind. As he skipped forward, Braixen’s bushy tail brushed against his exposed face teasingly. “I know she left in a hurry for Johto and all,” in between coughs he pushed away her all smothering tail, “but wouldn’t she try and hide all of her stuff first?”

“I think you’re underestimating just how badly she was compromised by a certain Raichu.” Wand twirling between her fingers, she recanted the fantastical bedtime story passed down ever since Johto was first discovered and settled.

A stoic and nameless figure that was the stuff of legends, she had traveled all across the continent. Conquering every Mastery gym there was, the Electric type set out to prove herself the best of the best. At the apex of her journey, a certain Pikachu returned to where she started. Viridian’s gym was the most grueling and demanding challenge offered on the Kanto continent, and under Nidorina’s watchful eye, she passed it with flying colors. Thoroughly impressed by her strength, Nidorina offered the electric mouse a high ranking position in her smuggling operation, and sweetened the deal with a Thunder stone. The challenger accepted her offer, evolved, and the newly minted Raichu immediately reneged on their agreement. Playing Nidorina from the start, she had half-heartedly entertained prior offers from her agents stationed in Mastery gyms throughout the land. Cognizant of the corruption present and how deeply it was seeded, she relentlessly challenged one gym after another, making herself so attractive a prospect that the Pokemon in charge of the whole shebang had to present themselves before her sooner or later.

Her long game had played out beautifully as she handily defeated Nidorina within her own gym. But as Raichu prepared to cripple the dread organization that ran the continent from the shadows, the Gym leader pulled out her ace in the hole. A Moon stone. Nidorina had long since contemplated evolving herself, but always decided against it. She was powerful as it was, and was mindful not to let it go to her head. Raichu had forced her hand however, and her strength grew monstrously with her transformation into Nidoqueen. The tables turned and the battle lopsidedly weighed in her favor. Even though she emerged victorious after her second wind, the Raichu battered and broken at her feet, the damage was done. Irreversible and grievous, she had been found out and her operations exposed. Commandeering the first boat to Johto, she vanished into obscurity as her empire in Kanto crumbled, dragging down with it the countless cities and kingdoms that relied on her malevolent influence.

Braixen’s story told, she received an enthusiastic round of applause from the little Grass type that barely came up past her waist. Her snicker softened when Frogadier joined in his celebratory antics. The insides of her fluff filled ears burned pink as a warm smile graced her lips. “Though…” Braixen’s smile waned when she tapped her wand against her chin.

“I know, I know, we talked about this on the ferry,” Frogadier acknowledged with a sigh. “We’re not going to be the first ones to have gotten it in our heads to go sniffing around her old stomping grounds. Even if-” The aquatic Pokemon’s jaw went slack.

Upon approach from Pallet, nothing had seemed amiss. The crumbling and abandoned buildings were to be expected after all. Nidorina’s departure had devastated the city. From a tiny hamlet up into a bustling cityscape; She, and her operations, were the lifeblood of Viridian. Facing out towards the ocean, the stone structures wore the expected wear and tear of time.

Just beyond them though, scant signs of previous habitation remained. The great forest encroached on and had begun reclaiming the city itself, casting entire city blocks under its dark and mossy shadow. Fledging pines and oaks burst up and through former stores and homes, their gnarled roots upending the paved brick streets.

With a gulp, Frogadier regained his composure. “Even if the place has been picked clean, it’s the best lead we have. Not like any of those older families can be counted on to disclose the ins and outs of Mega evolution.” Quilladin and Braixen at his side, he turned to face them. Curling his fist tight, the frog papped it against his chest. “It’s on us to figure it out for ourselves!”

“That little monologue of yours had already lost its punch by the second time you recited it on the ride over from Cinnabar.” Shaking her head, Braixen strutted past.

“So it could use a little work,” Frogadier reluctantly admitted, rubbing at his shoulder. A reassuring nod and smile from Quilladin lifted his spirits. “Still, it was more than enough to get the both of you to tag along!”

Wand held high overhead, her wrist circled round its bony pivot. “Please,” stifling a giggle, her bushy tail wagged to and fro, “we would have accompanied you regardless.” She eyed the silk spider web stretching from one side of the street to the other with a discontented growl.

“Blech, those pests are here too?” Shuffling behind Frogadier, Quilladin poked his head out from behind his friend’s back, his green and orange tipped horns brushing against the back of the Water type’s cloak. “Darn Spinarak are everywhere now.” Those repulsive things had a knack for showing up everywhere they weren’t wanted. Stowing away on the first ships to make landfall in Johto, the vermin hitched a ride back to Kanto. Without fail, they always managed to make themselves known on every new continent discovered since then.

A flame of ember concentrated on the tip of the vixen’s wand. With a flick of her wrist, the ball of flame sailed forward and exploded into the web. Licks of fire spread along its surface, the meticulously crafted silk spirals collapsing in on themselves in the searing heat. It silently peeled away from the walls, flakes of ash nestling between the cracks in the barren brick roads. “Let’s keep moving.” Sticking her wand back into her bushy tail, it rustled against the other contents tucked away in her fur.

One foot set in front of the other, Braixen, Quilladin, and Frogadier stuck out towards Viridian’s hollow heart. The clinks of their feet against the broken bricks were muffled by the layers of moss and grass subsuming all signs of civilization. Paying no heed to the countless buildings begging to be explored and burgled, they passed one boarded up shop after the next. In the abandoned Mart beside them, something could be heard shuffling inside. Some sort of undesirable Bug type, no doubt.

From between the planks of wood nailed to a decrepit shop window, an emerald green eye twitched unconsciously, suspiciously regarding the trio of intruders.

---

“More visitors?”

Pulling back from his peephole, the Furret brushed away bark and sawdust clinging to his forehead. “Three of them.”

The Rattatta scratched at his whiskers in disinterest. Purple furred fingers brushed up against the fleshy nubs that remained on the left side of his muzzle. “You know the drill.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to just off anyone and everyone who sets foot here?” Leaning back in his chair, both back legs wobbled uneasily under the Buneary’s weight. His head swiveled towards Furret pacing towards the opposite side of the room, taking up sentry at a new window. “Get some rumors going that the place is haunted, make a couple bodies disappear to get the groundswell going. Would make our jobs all that much easier.”

“Not quite,” Furret replied, remaining stationed and attentive at his post. “We’d be liable to be overrun by academics from Sinnoh.” His neck bobbed back and forth between peepholes, keeping a close watch on the trio from Kalos. “So much as suggesting Ghost types linger here from time to time would draw them in droves. They’re already swarming around Lavender as it is.”

Buneary shuddered at the mention. “Something ain’t right with that place.” As if being a necropolis that had accumulated thousands of corpses over the centuries wasn’t bad enough, Lavender also had the dubious distinction of being the only place on the continent where Ghost types gathered en masse.

“It’s being dragged into another world entirely, apparently. From the sounds of it, those phantasms aren’t from here at all.” Most of the letters intercepted out of Lavender had proved fascinating reads, Furret mused. “Back in Sinnoh I’ve heard word that wherever Ghost types concentrate, portals to a… what did they call it? Distortion World?”

Purple eyelids draped down across Rattatta’s brow, crimson pupils glaring back from underneath. “Academics aside, if you want to disobey Nidoking’s direct orders that’s on your head, not mine.” His eyes swiveled towards the Furret pattering up the ladder to the roof, his long striped body vanishing in an instant. “We only act if anyone sets foot within his family’s old Mastery Gym.”

Letting his feet slide forward, the front legs of Buneary’s chair tonked loudly against the floorboards.

“Viridian is to remain as uninteresting as possible, a dot on the maps to be overlooked and forgotten. That means no disappearances,” his eyes darted towards the edges of his sockets before he continued on in a subdued manner, “if it can be helped, anyway.” Creaking rafters prompted the Rattatta to turn his gaze up towards the ceiling. Furret’s every movement shook layers of grime and dust free from the crumbling planks of wood holding the roof above their heads. “And no Ghosts. The less reason we give people to congregate here, the better.”

One arm set before the other, Furret crawled forward upon the fragile rooftop. Mindful not to sever the weak mortar bonds holding the tiles in place and reveal himself, he kept his head low. Ever so slowly, he inched himself closer and closer towards the idle chatter that whispered to him from the alleys below.

“You don’t think it’s been swallowed up by the forest, do you?” Quilladin’s inquisitive voice echoed across the empty streets, prompting the Normal type’s flattened ears to perk to attention.

Content with his elevated position, he rested his chin upon his striped wrists. Those emerald eyes of his were the only things upon that roof that dared move.

Fingers twiddling against his thigh, Frogadier cocked his head to the side. “Half the city is already overgrown.” Cheek resting against his shoulder, the frog pressed up on the balls of his webbed feet and rolled back and forth across the cool mossy landscape. “It very well may be,” he conceded with a sigh.

Fledgling trees sprouted upon the dilapidated rooftops, their gnarled and hungry roots snaking their way down and inside the buildings like ivy. At the end of the soft green street rendered a dead end, a hollowed out stump lay splayed out, surrounded by what remained of the once lavish three story home that had collapsed beneath it. Large and reflective blue eyes peered out from the crumbled doorways of those musty buildings that remained standing, skittish Paras uneasily regarding the new arrivals.

“Even so,” Frogadier straightened his posture. “It’s still worth a look.” He let out a startled ribbit as Braixen’s warm furred fingers clenched around his shoulder blades, forcing him to hunch over.

Unfurling her map, she brushed the aside the sword sheath slung competing with her for real estate over his shoulders. Braixen spread the map flat against the Water type’s back. “Looks like we can’t take the main street all the way there,” she mused aloud. “We need to figure out some sort of detour.”

“Why don’t we just zig here and zag there?” Quilladin’s clawed fingers traced along the lines on the map, poking at the soft surface underneath.

“Is there not a better place to do this?” Frogadier croaked, craning his neck over his shoulder to try and see what all was going on back there.

“I doubt it,” Braixen hrrmmed, wand tapping against the side of her muzzle. “That’ll bring us even closer to Viridian forest. If it’s already this bad here we can’t count on anything remaining standing out along those back routes. How about…” She drew an imaginary route upon the faded parchment while Quilladin held it in place.

“Oooh I get it. The closer the streets are towards Pallet, the better chance they are of being in one piece?” The Grass type’s orange tipped tail swished side to side.

“If it gets us to Nidorina’s Mastery Gym, that’s all that matters,” Frogadier groaned as his companions continued drawing out paths on his backside.

Furret’s black pupils quivered in place as the trio came to their conclusion. He remained motionless, patiently waiting for the strange and unwanted visitors to venture out of earshot. Scrambled gesticulations and kicks of his legs ripped away countless tiles that tinked loudly against the green ground below as he shuttled in reverse, revealing the blackened and rotting frame of Nidoking’s Viridian outpost in the process.

---

“Did people really used to live here?” Little more than a whisper, Quilladin was the first among his friends to shake off the sense of awe that had taken hold. Before them lay Nidorina’s gym, the only thing remotely approximating a man-made structure that remained along the uneasy border separating Viridian City and Viridian Forest. Flanked on both sides by mossy building shaped mounds, sprouts of grass and flowers relentlessly smothered any and every vestige of civilization. Knee high grass scratched at Quilladin’s legs, the flora’s shallow roots catching against his clawed feet. “There’s hardly anything left!” He stamped his feet against the ground, no longer able to feel the bricks he knew were buried beneath, and alerting the nearby wandering weeds to their presence. Handfuls of Oddish and Bellsprout rustled through the tall blades of grass, leisurely sauntering away from the trio.

“Better question: How are we even going to get in?” Frogadier approached the ancient wooden two story structure cautiously, masses of vines draping down from its sloped roof. They coiled around and over every door and window. Glancing upwards every other second, he refused to take his attention away from the gargantuan pitcher plant Victreebels that hung like bulbous fruit from the sides of its walls.

“Carefully,” he answered himself as he daintily set his foot down on the first stair step leading up to the entrance. It crumbled to splinters instantly when he placed his weight upon it. “Crap.” The pitcher plants above shuffled in place, sensing fresh prey. Eyes gone wide, the Water type remained still, hesitant to dole out any further clues to his current position. Those things were as big as he was, and had a terrifying and well-earned reputation.

Watching on from a safe distance, Quilladin alternated between chewing away at his fingernails and shooing off a particularly curious Oddish. Braixen on the other hand readied her wand, a crackling ball of flame concentrated at its tip. “I’d rather go home empty handed than short a friend.”

“Easy, easy!” He waved at the fox, urging her to restrain her pyromania just a bit longer. “Let me at least try to get in before you raze this place to the ground.” Bending at his knees, energy coiled up in his legs. He leapt up the flight of stairs in a single hop, just barely avoiding smacking his head against the awning above the door.

Braixen bared her clenched teeth as the Victreebel continued to shuffle in place.

Frogadier’s pounding heart rattled between his ears as he tried forcing a sliding door open to no avail. “These vines won’t even budge.”

*TUNK*

Flakes of wood rained down upon Frogadier, catching in his bubbly scarf. A very loud shuffling of leaves indicated just what had landed on the frail awning above him. Silently, he unsheathed his borrowed sword and breathed in through his nostrils. “Slow and precise movements.” That thought repeated in his head while he brought his foot up to the sliding door. Legs aching from the amount of kinetic energy building up, he craned his neck over his shoulder to check that the coast was clear.

A single three pointed leaf dipped down from the awning behind him, held up by a thin wooden branch.

“Aaaaaaaaand that’s my cue.” Sweating bullets, he pushed himself off the door. Dragging the sword beside him as he exploded off its surface, the blade swung freely through the frictionless air for all of half a second. His wrist locked up as the blade slowed and grew heavy in the air, catching against the Victreebel’s side. Inertia carried him and his weapon ever forward however, that drag and added weight shaken off in an instant as the polished metal carved through the man eater. Tumbling to a halt before his friends, he let out a long breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. Behind him, the Victreebel split horizontal tipped over and crumpled to pieces, its acidic stomach contents burning holes into the ground.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Braixen tucked her wand back into her tail. “Well then, shall we take a look?” Brows furrowed, she shot a glance at the Victreebels shimmying along the vines towards the back of the structure. After coming to relabel the Kalos adventurers as predators instead of prey, the remaining carnivorous plants wanted nothing to do with them. “Come on Quilladin, I have a feeling this is your time to shine as our latest and greatest mage!”

“You betcha!” A light bop on the head sent the persistent Oddish he had just befriended waddling off, the stalks of leaves on its head blending in with blades of grass swaying in the breeze. Trailing alongside Braixen, both the Grass and Fire type came to a halt before the ruined stairs. Quilladin took a step forward and dug his fingers into the second step in an attempt to pull himself up and onto it. The plank of wood ripped off the sides of the stairs, hanging from his pointed nails. “Ummm… Frogadier?”

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” The multihued frog sheathed his sword on approach, quite pleased with his first kill as a warrior. Dropping down to his knees, he knocked aside the stray plank before curling his arms under Quilladin’s own. “Ready?” After receiving a confirmatory nod from their newest mage, the frog’s legs sprung into action. Even with the extra weight, Frogadier handily cleared the gap, touching down right before the entrance ensnared in a mesh of vines. After ensuring Quilladin’s safe arrival, he turned his attention towards the fiery fox below. “Care for a lift, Braixen?”

“If you’d be so kind.”

In a matter of moments the warrior was at her side, politely offering out a hand to hold.

Careful not to let a smile slip free, she clasped her furred fingers around his own while his left arm cradled her waist. Her tail betrayed her intentions however, swaying gently side to side.

“Now how did I do this before?” Frogadier and Braixen’s landing rattled the ground, causing Quilladin to wobble on his feet. Arms crossed about his armored green chest, he bobbed his head side to side. “Ah, that’s right!” Eyes lit up and an eager smile spread wide upon his exposed face, Quilladin raised his nubby arms as high as they would go. The ivy’s wooden hooks ripped themselves out of the structure, loudly scraping against the door as the broad leaves and arching branches compacted and crunched together. With a twirl of his wrists and clench of his fingers leaf blades tore to pieces, their moist remains serving as the glue keeping together the branches twisted beyond their breaking point.

“Quilladin? The goal here was to make the vines disperse and recede, not condense them into some-” Frogadier shooshed himself when the grassy green tentacles burrowed their way into all four corners of the door frame. Hairline cracks erupted into fissures that coughed and belched sawdust. Where they met, glimpses into the interior of Nidorina’s gym could be seen. With a final sputter of wood chips and plaster the door collapsed backwards with a creak and thunderous thud, finally granting entry to the trio. “Well then.” The Water type swatted away the clouds of dust wafting towards them. “I’m not complaining!”

Tussling Quilladin’s pointed horns, Braixen smiled to herself. “If I recall correctly, all of a couple hours ago you were shy to take on the mantle of mage.”

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